Pancakes
by Sixty-four K
Summary: In which Gracia Hughes has a rough morning. Written for the Moms Made Fullmetal event on Tumblr, under the prompt "Going Grey."


_This is my second story for the Moms Made Fullmetal week on Tumblr. I had a lot of fun writing this one- I'm not a mom myself, but I am a big sister, so some of the things that poor Gracia has to deal with here have happened to me. XD Thanks to everyone who read my previous story "Opportunities," and thanks to everyone who reads this one!_

* * *

 ** _Pancakes_**

There was a grey hair in her hairbrush.

Gracia stared in disbelief at the offending strand. There was no way- she was only in her twenties. She gazed into the bathroom mirror, arranging her hair this way and that, trying find other spots of grey.

After several minutes of searching, Gracia breathed a sigh of relief. No more grey hairs could be seen… but what if more appeared?

Grey at twenty-eight. She'd be the laughingstock of her entire circle of friends.

"Mommy?"

Gracia whirled around. "Elicia? It's too early for you to be up."

Her baby girl stood in the bathroom doorway, rubbing her eyes. "Can't sleep."

"Well, then you should have stayed in bed." Gracia stooped down, picking Elicia up. "It's only seven."

"Seven? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven!" Elicia giggled.

Gracia breathed out a sigh. "Yes, you can count, dearest." Elicia was a smart little girl, in all honesty- she knew how to count to twenty, and how many other two-and-a-half-year-olds knew how to do that? At the moment, however, she wasn't feeling especially appreciative of Elicia's brilliance. Her time to herself was over- Maes was sleeping, and she didn't want to wake him just to watch Elicia.

"Let's go make breakfast, shall we?" she said, adding fake cheer to her voice. No sense in taking out her feelings on Elicia.

"Yeah! Let's go!" cheered Elicia, yanking on Gracia's hair.

* * *

Maybe today wasn't the best day to try and make a new recipe. It was the first time that Maes had been home for breakfast in quite some time, however, and Gracia had been wanting to try out this new recipe for pancakes for a long time. With no one to keep Elicia out of trouble, however, the process would be double the challenge that it otherwise would be.

There was a deafening crash behind her. Gracia whirled around, pancakes on the grill forgotten. "Elicia!" Her voice came out sharper than she meant it to.

"Sorry," said Elicia, coloured white, sitting in a large pile of flour.

She shouldn't have stored the open flour bag on the counter. It was her fault. "That's ok, sweetie," said Gracia. "Let's clean up."

The floor was covered with flour, and the powder had somehow managed to stick inside of every loose crack any surface nearby. It was nearly impossible to get out. Gracia settled for sweeping up the worst of it; she'd deal with the rest later, when Elicia was napping- that is, if she would even nap today. She'd been getting fussy about that lately.

"Mommy? Mommy? _Mommy…_ "

" _What_ is it, Elicia?" Gracia glared up from where she knelt, attempting, despite her previous resolution, to scrub at least a little of the flour out of the cracks in the floorboards.

"The pancakes are on fire."

Gracia let out a little screech, flying up from the floor. The kitchen was filled with smoke, and, _somehow,_ she hadn't noticed, even though it should have been _obvious_.

The fire, thankfully, was confined to the pancakes themselves, not having had the chance to spread anywhere else. Gracia dumped them off of the grill into the sink, running water over them. She stared at the soggy mess in the sink, gagging at the thought of having to pull them out of there.

She'd just leave them there for now.

Most of the batter was gone, now, and thanks to Elicia's mishap, there was no more flour left to make more. They'd just have to make do with the batter that was left. Gracia let the few pancakes left cook, watching them like a hawk. She heard Elicia making havoc in the pots-and-pans cupboard, but made no effort to stop her- at least she wasn't going to make any more uncleanable messes if she was in there.

Finally. The pancakes were finished, done to golden perfection. Gracia flipped the pancakes onto a plate- there were a few, at least. "Sit down, Elicia. It's breakfast time."

Elicia made no reply, too enamoured with the cavernous cupboard that she was playing in.

"Elicia!" Gracia said sharply.

"Huh?" Elicia stuck her head out of the cupboard.

Sighing for the tenth time, this time with more edge to her exhale, Gracia scooped Elicia up, plopping her into her highchair. She set down Elicia's plate with a less-than-gentle motion. "Time to eat," she said through her teeth.

Elicia took a bite- then promptly spit it out. "Yuck."

Gracia blinked. "What do you mean, 'yuck?' I spent all morning cooking this, and you will eat it."

The little girl's eyes stared towards Gracia, worry in her eyes. "But, Mommy… it's yucky."

"Don't talk like that!" Gracia couldn't keep her voice down. "Haven't I taught you better than that? Eat your food without complaining. You know, there are some kids who would be grateful to have any food at all-"

"Everything alright, Gracia?"

Gracia looked up- it was Maes, his glasses askew, hair messy, sporting slippers and a bathrobe. "Not really," she said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice. "Elicia won't eat her breakfast."

"Aww, why won't you eat?" cooed Maes, bending over the little girl. "They're yummy pancakes!"

"They're yucky," said Elicia, evidently reassured at Maes' upbeat attitude. "You try?"

"Sure I will," said Maes, pouring some syrup onto one of the pancakes, "and then you'll see how yummy they really are!"

His smile disappeared as soon as he took a bite. "Um… sweetie? You might want to try these," he said, coughing.

Really? Were they ganging up on her? "Seriously? You're _agreeing_ with her?"

Maes stared. "Well, honey, I'm just saying that they're a little-"

Gracia rolled her eyes. "Well, _fine_ then. I'll try it." She took a bite off of Maes' plate, not wanting to bother preparing one for herself.

It was _bad,_ bitter, with none of the natural sweetness that a pancake should have, and she realized her mistake instantly. "Oh no."

"What?"

"I accidentally put baking soda in the batter instead of baking powder."

Maes smiled, a cautious smile, and Gracia could tell that he was nervous about her reaction. "Well, it was an accident. It's ok, Gracia; everyone makes mistakes."

Gracia sunk into the nearest chair. "No, I'm sorry. I've been far too irritable this morning- Elicia's just been a little imp, and I got distracted."

"I'll make breakfast this morning," said Maes, getting up from the table, a relieved smile on his face. "I mean, I know how to make frozen waffles- hope that's okay with you."

"Anything that isn't baking soda pancakes is good," said Gracia, letting out a half-laugh.

Maes bustled around the kitchen, and Gracia sat, looking at her daughter. Elicia sat quietly in the highchair, looking… nervous, perhaps.

"I'm sorry, Elicia," Gracia mumbled. "I lost my temper. Forgive me?"

Elicia smiled. "Okay!"

She was so quick to forgive. Gracia realized that she was lucky to have a daughter like Elicia, and a husband like Hughes, and she was fortunate to have the luxury of being able to be angry and worried over little things like a naughty daughter, a spoiled pancake recipe, a grey hair…

"Guess what?" Maes sat down next to her. "I found a grey hair this morning. In my hairbrush. Guess I'm aging early, huh?"

He did? Suddenly, she didn't feel so bad. Gracia giggled. "So am I, I guess. I found one, too."

Maes grinned. "Well, there's a common factor there, I guess." They both glanced over at their precious daughter, now happily eating one of Maes' famous frozen waffles.

Gracia smiled. She'd rather have Elicia, would rather have her family, than her original hair colour. Grey hair was like a crown of glory, it seemed; proving the owner to have a wonderful, albeit chaotic family, who wouldn't let trivialities like spoiled food destroy their binding relationship.


End file.
